


A Midnight Dance

by pan_dora



Series: The One With the Steo One-Shots [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5x19 - the beast of beacon hills, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, M/M, Steo, Stiles/Theo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan_dora/pseuds/pan_dora
Summary: Theo grabbed his throat with a warning snarl. His fingers pressed against his skin as he leaned up and placed his lips next to Stiles’ ear. “Do you realise,” he growled in a very low voice, “how hard I will fuck you into submission the second we’re alone?” His hand found its place at the nape of Stiles’ neck, and he pulled him away from the wall to shove him back in the direction of the stairs. “Leave.”Stiles raised his chin a fraction. “No.”





	A Midnight Dance

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt I received on my [My Tumblr](https://msmischief101.tumblr.com/):
> 
>  _ **Would you write a steo fic where they get kinky ;)**_ by 'nonnie'.
> 
> Prompts are still open if ya interested. Hit me up here or on Tumblr.

“Your voice is getting on my nerves.”

Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Deucalion knew exactly what to say. Josh’s unease was a thick blanket in the air. He’s unsure what to do and where to go, if staying with the chimera pack was the right option. It caused Tracy’s contempt for him to grow, to strain the fragile pack bond even further. Theo needed help. If he didn’t get the situation under control, Stiles was going to intervene.

“Paralyse his tongue.”

“You got it.”  _Of course_. Stiles clenched his hand into a fist, resisted the urge to drive his knuckles against the wall to get rid of his own bottled-up frustration. Her willingness to do whatever it took to please Theo slowly but surely became a sure-fire way to find herself the sole target of Stiles’ rage. He might have a lid on it most of the time, knowing very well how to release it otherwise. If this continued, however, his control would quickly vaporize.

“Tell me something, Tracy.” Deucalion’s insistence made Stiles stop his pacing and turn towards the door. “Just how powerless were you before this all happened?” Oh god. He was so wrong. Nobody could make his every fibre vibrate with hatred and anger more than Deucalion; the man who destroyed his first pack, killed Erica and Boyd, who was the reason his father had almost been ritually sacrificed, who had opened the pathway for the nogitsune to enter his body. Stiles’ curled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. "In my experience, it's the truly powerless who are all too eager to demonstrate their newfound strength.”  _Breathe_. Stiles needed to calm down or he was going to lose his composure – and that would end really ugly. “So, allow me to demonstrate something more helpful to our cause.” Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Trust.”

His instinct wailed as he noticed Theo’s becoming marginally antsy. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. Josh and Tracy’s fear added to it. Stiles swallowed and stepped away from the door to prevent himself from barging in. He said he'd stay out of it. He  _promised_.

“I told you,” Deucalion continued after a pause, “I wanted Scott McCall’s eyes.” Something about his words struck Stiles’ as wrong, as foul, but he couldn’t figure out if that’s because it’s a direct threat against Scott or something entirely different. “That’s why I let you take me.” Another pause. Distinctively shorter this time. “I have been a willing guest this entire time.”

Stiles reaches for the door as Theo’s nervousness suddenly turned into alarm. His fingers curled around the doorknob, knuckles white. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. There’s no guarantee Deucalion was on their side, no guarantee this wasn’t a giant hoax. If Stiles got hurt in an attack, he wouldn’t heal. He was a chimera, all right, but his nogitsune part only gave him a source to draw power from. His body was human, fragile. He wasn’t strong or could heal. He didn’t have supernatural senses. That’s why Theo wanted him to stay away from Deucalion. Despite all his magic, despite his power, he was weak; he was a weakness.

“Okay.” Theo’s voice seemed relatively calm, and Stiles pressed his forehead against the cool glass. “What now?”

“I teach you what you’re being so desperate to know.” The following growl was like a direct hit to the gut. He heard the sounds of a struggle. His nervous energy squeezed choked him – and exploded outward as Theo screamed in pain. The door he had been holding onto blasted out of its frame. Glass shattered, flew everywhere.

Deucalion tossed Theo away like yesterday’s newspaper. “Now, who do we have here?”

Stiles didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, he went with his anger, followed his instincts. That’s what he’s good at, what he’d always been able to trust. He flicked his wrist, relishing in the sounds of Deucalion’s kneecap smashing into little pieces, the pained noise escaping his mouth. He could hear someone else’s shocked reaction, a panicked sort of  _mewl_. Nothing that satisfied him enough. Stiles repeated the motion. Pleasure eased the flame of anger to a certain degree. Barely enough to be noticeable. Just a little  _more_. He flicked his wrist again, this time aiming at the left femur. It broke in two with an audible snap, and Deucalion fell to the ground holding his thigh. Perhaps it would heal quickly, but that only meant Stiles could break it more often.

“Hey!” Tracy obviously had picked her courage up from the floor. As she attempted to stop him, Stiles hurled her across the room with a short dismissive gesture. Josh stumbled out of his way pulling his alpha with him; it’s debatable whether he did it to protect him or to have something to hide behind. His fear was the most prominent emotion in the room.

“Stop it.” Theo snapped his fractured bones back into place.

Stiles reached out a hand. “Do you feel that?” He asked watching with satisfaction as sweat pooled at Deucalion’s hairline, cheeks flushed, a feverish expression on his face. “That’s your blood starting to boil.” His broken bones might not be a problem for long, but this was something his supernatural healing couldn’t fight, this was something Stiles could torture him with forever without any chance of relief.

“I said  _stop_!” Theo slammed into him, grabbing his arm to pin it against the wall next to his head. His features became blurry at their proximity, amber coloured eyes something to focus on. They shared the same air for a while, their breathing and heartbeat in sync.

A quiet chuckle made Theo turn his head. “Why do you keep such interesting company a secret?”

Stiles’ gaze snapped towards Deucalion.

Theo grabbed his throat with a warning snarl. His fingers pressed against his skin as he leaned up and placed his lips next to Stiles’ ear. “Do you realise,” he growled in a very low voice, and Stiles isn't at all surprised at the following words, “how hard I will fuck you into submission the second we’re alone?” It's just so Theo. His hand found its place at the nape of Stiles’ neck, and he pulled him away from the wall to shove him back in the direction of the stairs. “Leave.”

Stiles raised his chin a fraction. “No.”

Tracy stared at him with a mixture of contempt and confusion. Although she couldn’t have heard Theo’s words, his body language spoke volumes. He stood tall, close to Stiles, his whole body turned towards him and away from her. After a moment, Theo diminished the space between them even further and curled his fingers around his wrist. He didn’t glance in her direction once as she hissed in pain and pressed a hand to her waist. His voice is low and dark when he said, “I told you to leave.”

“Nogitsunes,” Deucalion chimed in, pausing for dramatic effect as he got back to his feet, “are volatile creatures, Theodore. It will never be a slave to anyone. Enjoy its company for as long as you can.”

Theo let out a long breath. Stiles narrowed his eyes.  _It_. Like he was some kind of creature not worthy to be around a werewolf. “I’m not a nogitsune.” It’s what he said. In his head, however, it sounded more like ‘ _I’m not a monster_ ’.

“Your aura suggests otherwise,” Deucalion commented almost offhandedly, and Theo’s grip around Stiles' wrist tightened. “Another chimera, I presume. Slightly more powerful than his other minions.” Deucalion didn’t remember anything. To him, Stiles was probably nothing more than a fly in the grand scheme of things, a boy who happened to be friends with wolves, already forgotten the second their ways had parted, something redundant and unworthy of his attention.

Stiles raised a hand, but Theo grabbed it, forced it down, the warning clear in his eyes.

Deucalion chuckled. “Don’t be offended, I remember you clearly. You’re Derek’s boy.” Theo froze at these words, fingers around his wrist tightening even further; the painful, leaving marks behind kind of death grip. It hurt. A lot; and it’s not normal for Theo to cause Stiles any form of displeasure. “The Hale emissary.”

The statement hung in the air for a few seconds. Wrath curled around it like a snake, stark and absolute, a creature ready to attack. Theo sucked in air through his teeth, then let out a long breath. “Never mind,” he said letting go of Stiles’ wrist as if he’d been burnt. “If I hear one more word I’ll do something I might regret.” Another second of silence trickled by. “Break his neck.” It’s clearly a command, but Stiles didn’t mind. Not this time.

With a simple snap of his fingers, Deucalion’s head flew to the side and he dropped like a dead weight, eyes open. It's not as satisfying as he thought it would be, knowing it hadn’t killed him. But he couldn’t do much about it because Theo had grabbed his arm again and dragged him towards the stairs. “Go,” he growled. “I’ll deal with you later.”

 

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, cussing softly under his breath. Quiet laughter reached his ears and he turned his head, uncertain if that’s the correct direction. “Fuck you, Theo.” Another laugh, a bit louder this time. It definitively  _was_ Theo, although the guy had neither said a word nor given Stiles the opportunity to see him before covering his eyes with a blindfold. He tried his best to listen for the quiet footsteps, but his nervously pounding heart made it almost impossible. Stiles took a measured step away from his desk, then stopped pressing his lips in a thin line. “You can’t sneak up on me like that,” he said raising a hand. "Next time I’ll snap _your_ neck on accident.” The moment his fingers touched the soft fabric of the blindfold, Theo was right there, pushing him against the wall pinning both hands next to his head.

“You’ll keep that on,” Theo said pressing his leg between his thighs, jeans scratching his thighs, “until I’m done with you.”

Stiles had a hard time figuring out whether he liked the position which he was in. Having control taken away from him set his teeth on edge. But on the other hand, he trusted Theo. He trusted him enough to know he’d never do something Stiles wouldn’t be comfortable with. “What are you gonna do?”

Instead of answering, Theo pressed their mouths together startling him. This was going to be a very different experience from all the other times they had been intimate with each other, he could already tell that much. Perhaps they could finally go further than the quick and sometimes rather messy blow and hand jobs squeezed in between classes at school or during stakeouts. Their lives were too convoluted and screwed up, filled with so much fucking supernatural bullshit. Most of the time, they weren’t in the right mindset for foreplay, for getting in the mood, for doing more than getting each other off as quickly as possible before collapsing into each other's arms. They were both far more interested in being as close as possible than having sex. That doesn't mean they don't crave it.

As Theo sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers knotting in the short strands of his hair, Stiles groaned. He wanted to grab the chimera, but he kept an unrelenting grip around his wrists. A quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest, and Theo slowly fucked his tongue into his mouth, pushing closer. Stiles couldn’t resist the urge to grind against the thigh between his legs trying to get more friction that way.

Laughing, Theo pulled away. “It’s not going to be that easy, babe.” He let go of him then, and Stiles reached out a hand, ran his fingers up Theo’s side and chest fisting the fabric to yank him close again. With his sight gone, he noticed how much harder his other senses worded. He noticed Theo’s aftershave, fresh and woody, almost oriental. The denim jacket felt scratchier than usual. “Okay.” Theo pressed something cool against the nape of his neck. The material was a lot harder than the blindfold.

“Is that a collar?”

“It’s my belt,” Theo corrected slapping Stiles’ hands away as he tried to make a grab for it. “You brought this on yourself. If you just listened to what I’m telling you-“ He tugged on the belt easily pulling Stiles towards him- “I wouldn’t have to teach you a lesson.”

This shouldn’t be a turn on. God,  _fuck_. It shouldn’t be so fucking hot to be at Theo’s mercy – and it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that his dear boyfriend was into this sort of thing. Stiles couldn’t stop the heat creeping up his neck and his cheeks. Just what he needs; giving Theo more ideas. “Where are we going?”

“The door.” Theo yanked at the belt, and Stiles shrieked as he almost lost his footing.  _Okay_. Maybe he didn’t like this part all that much. Theo enjoyed being a giant dick – but he made up for it the second Stiles’ back hit his bedroom door. His teeth caught on the sensitive skin of his neck, and they rocked against each other, hands roaming and clasping. Stiles wanted everything Theo was willing to give and more, craved his hand or mouth around his dick, but even more than that he would like for Theo to finally fuck him. His fingers hadn't been enough the last two times.

“This is going to be simple,” Theo told him as he kissed a path up his neck, "I'll either fuck you and be done with it  _or_ -" He sucked skin between his teeth, and Stiles hissed, hips bucking up on their own volition- “you’re going to have a great night.” Apologetically, he licked over the abused skin, pressing a quick kiss to it. “Depends on how you behave.” His mouth travelled up to his jaw, tongue constantly darting out between his lips until he captured Stiles’ again, kissing him in a way that made his mind go blank. 

Stiles wrapped his arms around Theo’s shoulders to pull him closer, opening his legs obediently – because it seemed like that’s what the self-declared alpha wanted to happen tonight. If it meant he was getting a fucking amazing time, he would absolutely play along. 

Theo grabbed his arms and moved them over his head. A moment later, Stiles felt cuffs curling around his wrist.  _Fuck_. Although he had expected the first time they were finally having sex wouldn’t exactly be vanilla – to be honest, Stiles had imagined Theo getting so fed up with his behaviour, he would bend him over the first flat surface he could find and fuck him into it – he hadn’t exactly anticipated dipping his toe into this kind of sex. “It’s pretty nice of me, don’t you think?” Theo asked tightening the cuffs until Stiles could still move his hands but couldn’t get free. “To give you a second chance instead of a spanking.”

Stiles’ stomach dropped into ice-water. “You’re not going to tie me down to hit me. I swear-“

“I want you to have a good time,” Theo said soothingly, his hand slipping past the waistband of his boxer shorts and straight to his dick, squeezing and stroking without saying a word for a little while. Stiles moaned in the back of his throat, squeezed his eyes shut. He felt cold all over, although heat travelled through his veins. But Theo was so far away, his body was not draped over his like it normally would be. Instead, he jerked him off skilfully but methodically, almost as if he studied his reactions and filed them away for later use. Then, suddenly, the hand vanished and reappeared at his hip. 

“I have a question for you, Stiles.” Theo’s voice was surprisingly even as he pulled his boxers down. A moment later, however, he walked away. His steps louder now.

It’s fucking horrible not knowing what’s going on. “Which would be?”

It sounded as if Theo’s voice would come from the direction of the bed. “What do you think pissed me off more?” His voice had dropped low again, an almost growl, and Stiles really loved to hate the effect it had on him, especially right now. “Your bratty behaviour or Deucalion’s words?”  

If this became twenty question, Stiles would nail this evening – and hopefully  _be_  nailed as a reward for being an amazing boyfriend who constantly paid attention. “Deucalion’s words,” he replied without hesitation or doubt. Theo was the most possessive and jealous person walking on this very earth and every single time Derek’s name came up, his temper would get the best of him. Whoever was daring enough to label Stiles as  _Derek’s boy_  could be happy if they're still alive afterward. “You secretly love that I’m doing what I want.”

Theo reappeared at his side. His hands ghosted over his skin. “You’re such a smartass.” He chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, pulled his side against his chest. Biting Stiles’ earlobe gently, Theo wrapped his fingers around his dick again. After a few excruciatingly slow strokes, he sped up, tightened his grip just a fraction. Stiles let his head fall against the door with a moan, the thud a dull sound somewhere in the distance. “Your dad and Melissa are downstairs,” Theo reminded him tugging at the belt to move his head forward. “Maybe you should be a bit quieter." He told him that without stopping or slowing down. Instead, he finished his words with a cruel flick of his thumb causing Stiles to clench his teeth and  _mewl_  in the back of his throat, hips jerking and hands yanking at the cuffs keeping him in place.

He wanted to insult his asshole of a boyfriend, but his mind didn’t come up with anything, and his breath caught in his throat anyway. “ _Theo_ ,” he croaked instead, voice raw, as the muscles in his legs started to shake. His grip around the cuffs turned more desperate. “Theo-“ Maybe it’s the whole setup, his body working on overdrive to make up for the loss of one of its senses. But he’d be coming in record time if Theo kept this up. “ _Fuck_.” His voice sounded too loud in his ears, his muscles shook even more and, briefly, he wondered how long his legs would carry his weight. There wasn’t a single nerve not on fire in his whole body. The heat in his gut spread everywhere.

Theo stopped. He did not only stop, but he also pulled away completely, leaving him in this heat that’s too much and not enough. “No,” Stiles whined yanking at his cuffs. “Theo,  _please_.”

Another chuckle. Stiles was too desperate to be properly pissed off at it.

“I’m basing my decision on what I think is best for you, babe,” Theo said from somewhere to his right. The distinct sound of his desk chair being moved filled the brief silence. “So, when I tell you to stay away from Deucalion, I do that because I worry about your safety.” Or the fact that Stiles might use his pent-up rage to kill him for everything he’d done to them. But, of course, it’s Stiles’ safety he’s worried about. “Right now, I think patience will help you go a long way.”

It’s quiet after that, and Stiles didn't hear anything but his own breathing and heartbeat. This was fucking  _unfair_. Theo couldn’t just do that. Well, he could, and he did. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. Not at all. Neither was following orders. If someone told him not to do something, it’s the easiest way to ensure Stiles was going to do it. Theo knew that. So, really, that's on him.

“Where are you?” Stiles briefly considered trying to get the blindfold off by rubbing his head against his bicep. However, he doubted Theo would let him.

“Here.”

Stiles turned his head in the direction his voice came out of. His bedroom was full of emotions and feelings, a well-mixed cocktail of lust, desperation, and repressed anger. They were all coming from Theo, but it's too hard to decipher which one was the most prominent - or where their source was hiding. “What are you doing?”

“Watching.”

Stiles flushed and twisted his body away for a second. There was nowhere to hide. So, he took a breath and leaned against the door, startled by how cold it felt against his back. “For how long?”

“A little while.”

Bastard. A fucking, tremendously huge bastard. That’s what Theo was. It would be so great if Stiles could blame his chaos-loving chimera for his attraction. But that’s a lie just as large as Theo’s gigantic ego. After all, they had started dating  _before_  they turned him – or rather, woke up what the nogitsune had left in him. His attraction is as personal as the lack of patience. "Theo, please," he begged, tugging at the cuffs desperately. “Pretty, please,  _come_ here.” He literally didn’t care even the smallest bit what Theo was going to do to him as long as he’d do something to ease the buzzing, to make this heat explode, to push him over the edge.

“We should do this in the gym next time,” Theo announced. The sound of jeans scraping over soft fabric caused Stiles’ head to perk up. “In front of a mirror.” There was another noise Stiles couldn’t quite identify – it’s not the sound of a zipper being opened which was highly unsatisfactory. "So, you can see how needy you look." Another chuckle and then Theo was pressing against him, fingers curling around his dick. Quickly and firmly, he resumed what he had stopped. The simmering heat was already building again. Stiles wanted nothing more than to touch Theo, to see him, look at his face. But he could feel Theo’s forehead at his cheek, his nose brushing against his jaw. He was watching, Stiles realised in the back of his mind, he was watching how he jerked him off. It shouldn’t be this fucking hot. It  _really_ , really shouldn’t be. “How needy you are for me.” Theo’s voice had dropped to low a growl. His own desperation and lust more prominent than the taste of anger. “I bet I could bend you over and fuck you right now. You’d take it, wouldn’t you?”

Stiles hummed his approval, heat nearing a boiling point. He was so close. So  _goddamn close._ “ _Theo_ ,” he gasped, arching his back.

Theo breathed him in, face buried in the crook of his neck. “Your mine,” he told him, free hand coming up to cover his mouth almost as if he’d sensed the moan coming before Stiles had been aware of it. “You know that, don’t you?” Stiles couldn’t answer, but he couldn’t stop the stifled noises falling from his lips either. His legs shook as Theo’s grip around him tightened, fingers playing him like a fiddle. “C’mon, come for me.”

Although it had been a long time building, his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. The heat exploded, and his mind went completely blank for a few glorious seconds. Theo’s hand pressed down on his mouth as he came, back arching, legs buckling. His heart was hammering against his chest, nerves buzzing.

“Shh.” Theo kissed his temple running his hands up and down his sides, in slow soothing gestures. “You’re perfect.” His words, for once, weren’t accompanied by a chuckle. They were genuine and burned a Theo shaped mark into his mind, his skin, his heart. He hushed him, as his sweater scratched against his dick, pressed his mouth to his temple.

A quiet groan slipped past Stiles' lips when his arms dropped like a dead weight, falling around Theo's shoulders like they belonged there and nowhere else. They kissed, softly, lips moving against each other without urgency or heat. But Stiles could feel the bulge at his thigh. Theo was hard from watching him, from doing this to him. “Now you,“ he murmured between kisses. His attempt to get his hands between them fell flat. Instead, he knocked the leather band attached to his cuffs against Theo's head. At least, if the quiet grunt and following chuckle was any indication. He grinned innocently.

“Can you walk?”

His legs felt a bit wobbly, but Stiles was pretty sure he’d make it to wherever Theo intended to lead him. “If you don’t let me run into shit,” he replied frowning for a second as his arms were raised so Theo could free himself. "I know there are books all over my floor."

Theo hummed. “Books, clothes, backpacks,” he tugged at the belt pulling Stiles along – and it’s still a fucking weird feeling to be led by a collar, even if it wasn’t a collar per se. He’d play along for one night, but Stiles doubted this would make it onto his kink list. Besides,  _he_  wasn’t the dog in the relationship. “You used to be tidier.”

“Not when I’m super-focused on research.”

Theo made a soft noise of understanding, probably remembering the three times he had tried to get his attention when his ADHD had gotten the best of him and absolutely  _nothing_ could distract him from doing whatever he was doing at that point in time. He had forcefully removed Stiles from the room behind the operation theatre, in which he could practice his magic without interruption. “You could hyper-focus on my dick for a change.”

Stiles scrunched up his face grunting when the back of his thighs hit the bed. “I don’t think you want that,” he admitted knowing how often he went overboard with everything during these moments.

Theo chuckled and shoved him onto the mattress. “As long as you don’t space out during sex,” he told him, “I’m willing to compromise.”

He snorted out a laugh, then perked his head up as he heard the rustle of clothes. “Wait,” he complained trying, and failing to push himself onto his elbows, “I don’t even get to see you get naked? What the hell, man.” Animated by this glaring injustice, Stiles raised his hands to the blindfold. He’d merely pushed it up enough to get a peek of what was possibly tanned skin, as Theo tackled him, effectively pinning his arms into the bedding.

“Do you want me to chain you up again?” He asked, and something in his voice told Stiles that his eyes were probably burning amber above him. He just wanted to  _see_ , but if he played along at least he could touch. So, he shook his head and smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Theo’s shoulders to keep him close for a while longer.

Stiles dragged his nails across his back. “I want you to fuck me.”  

“Are you sure?”

What kind of stupid question was that? “I prepared myself in the shower before you came. I’d call that pretty fucking sure.” Theo made a very particular noise after this statement; it sounded almost choked but not really and he pulled away so suddenly, Stiles had no clue what had happened. Furrowing his brows, he propped himself on his elbows. “Did you just come prematurely in your pants?”

Theo kicked the mattress. “No, you-  _fuck_.” He cussed, and it sounded suspiciously as if he tried to keep his balance by hopping around. “Ow, your godforsaken backpack.” Stiles fell back onto the mattress cackling. That served him right. Kind of. “Get the belt off,” he ordered while rummaging around in the nightstand, "and get on your hands and knees.”

Stiles really,  _really_  wanted to complain about the bossy behaviour, simply because it’s in his nature to be bratty and stubborn and he loved to make it hard for everyone else involved just for his own entertainment. But he was too greedy to finally get what he wanted that he fumbled with the belt and yanked it off so quickly he knocked the buckle against his jaw. Theo saw or heard, of course, he did, and cackled diabolically. Fine.  _Karma_. He still flicked him off – hopefully, he might have flipped the bird at his dresser – and rolled onto his stomach.

Electricity coursed through his veins as he heard Theo preparing himself with lube. It’s the filthiest and most erotic sound right after hearing him moan his name. “Get a move on.” Stiles curled his fingers into the bedding, possibly his pillow, and shifted around, spread his legs a little further.

“We really have to work on your patience.” But he settled behind him, mattress dipping. He grabbed him by the thighs and pulled him back, draping himself over his back. Stiles groaned at the sensation of skin on skin, at Theo’s slick finger pressed against his hole. The chimera moaned as if it were his dick slipping inside. “ _Fuck_.”

“Yes,” Stiles hissed curling his hands into fists, “you told me you’d fuck me back into submission. I’m still waiting.”

Theo pulled his hand back, grabbed Stiles by the hair and yanked him in an upright position. “Careful what you wish for, babe.” He’s back in character, back playing the alpha and Stiles couldn’t care less about it, hyperaware of the head of Theo’s dick getting very close to his entrance. “I can smell how much you want this,” he told him nibbling at the side of his neck as he lined up, head now teasingly pressing against his rim. “And I bet you’ll take it so well.” That’s all the warning he got before Theo pushed in, groaning and cussing at the same time.

Stiles covered his own mouth as Theo’s dick opened him further, not giving him time to adjust. It’s intrusive and slightly uncomfortable, but overall, it felt too fucking good to give a shit about anything else. Theo curled one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulder, almost like he needed to hold onto something while he made Stiles take him in one long motion. The intense feeling almost broke his mind right then and there. The word  _fuck_ was painted against his shoulder over and over again – and Stiles couldn’t agree more. How they’d managed to wait over a month for this was beyond him.

“Okay?” Theo asked breathlessly.

Slowly, he pried his own hands away from his mouth. "Move," he demanded, trying to reach around to grab Theo, but the cuffs didn’t let him, and he cursed under his breath, “ _fucking move_.”

The expected quip about his lousy patience didn’t come, instead, Theo followed his order, fingers curling around his exposed throat, and pulled back until only his tip was inside. He waited a few agonisingly long seconds – probably his attempt at demonstrating who’s in control – before pushing back in. Slowly. Too slowly. Stiles got it; the quiet, rational part of him that still existed knew he did so he wouldn’t get hurt. But,  _fuck_ , this was torture. Theo opened him up with slow thrusts and small kisses to his shoulder, until, suddenly, he didn’t anymore.

At a moment’s notice, he shoved him onto the mattress and fucked into him at a fast pace. Stiles pressed his mouth into his pillow to stifle the noises he was making, although he wasn’t sure he would even be audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin as Theo thrust into him nailing his prostate with jarring accuracy. Stiles curled his fingers into the sheets in an attempt to hold onto something. It worked for a second, but his cock was throbbing, and he needed  _more_.

The hand holding him down found Stiles’ throat again. Theo squeezed once, a warning. “No touching,” he snarled, words sounding like they were formed around inhuman teeth. “You’ll come like this.” 

Stiles whined and curled his fingers back into the sheets. Theo bent over him, free arm propped up somewhere to his right. He wanted to see, he wanted to see him so bad that frustration pooled in his stomach. He could deal with not touching himself. But he needed to see his face.

Stiles shifted, tried to spread his legs further to give Theo a chance to get deeper and pushed back. Theo gasped cussing out a string of words Stiles wasn’t even sure were words in the first place. For the flicker of a second, the grip around his throat tightened again, making it even harder to breathe. It catapulted him closer to the edge than it probably should’ve. But this was something to work through another time. His nerves were on fire. He was close. So, very, very close.  

Theo unexpectedly pulled out and flipped him onto his back. The snick of his claws was terribly loud in the sudden silence, and Stiles reached his hands up prepared for anything, really – except for Theo to cut through the leather strap of his cuffs and the blindfold being yanked off. He blinked a couple of times trying to get used to the sensation of light. When his eyes had finally adjusted, Theo was already buried deep inside him continuing where he’d left off. A smirk curled around his lips as they looked at each other.

 _Fuck_. He looked so beautifully wrecked, eyes flickering back and forth between amber and his natural mixture of hazel and blue as if he couldn’t really control it. Stiles wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him down, lips crashing together in a haphazard kiss that was more panting into each other’s mouths than actual kissing. Neither seemed to understand the concept of how to do it, too occupied with everything else going on. “C’mon,” Theo breathed, thrusts hard and demanding and never failing to miss that sweet spot deep inside him. “C’mon, babe.” He reached around, prying one of Stiles’ hands from his back to intertwine their fingers. His hips stuttered momentarily, grip turning vice-like, and Theo bowed his head, pressed his face into the crook his neck, took a controlled breath. He was holding back.

Stiles’ brain was about to short out. “Do it.” Theo groaned. He wanted to see him lose control. It’s all he could focus on despite the continuously building heat coursing through his veins. Stiles scratched Theo between his shoulder blades, he arched his back. Fuck. “ _Theo_ ,” he keened. “Let go.” His claws sprang free next to Stiles’ head, tearing through the fabric of his pillow. He squeezed his other hand tighter, cursing under his breath. Stiles ran his hand through Theo’s hair. “Let go,” he repeated in a surprisingly steady voice.

It seemed to have done the trick. Theo muffled his cry at the crook of Stiles’ neck as he came, his last thrust body jarring, hips jerking helplessly – it’s what pushed Stiles over the edge as well. He bit down on his lips to keep himself from crying out as his pleasure reached its peak, and he came, harder than before. His body arched into Theo who wrapped one arm around him to keep him close until they collapsed together in a mess of tangled limbs, so close it’s hard to tell where one body began and the other ended.  

They were lying like that for a while, only moving as Theo pulled out – a sensation Stiles hadn’t signed up for.

“We gotta clean up.”

Theo grunted, such an eloquent response, and turned them around so Stiles could nestle at his side using his shoulder as a pillow. Although his muscles and body came with a certain kind of exhaustion, his mind was far too awake. He propped his chin up on his hand scrutinising the other’s face. Theo had his eyes half closed. A few strands of hair were clinging to his forehead, his cheeks slightly flushed. He’s really fucking pretty but telling him that wouldn’t reach the desired effect. For some reason, Theo hated it when Stiles called him pretty. He acted as if it were an insult or something. 

Theo glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Sighing, Theo curled an arm around his shoulders to pull him flat against his side. “It’s never nothing with you.”

A pinch of annoyance snuck its way into the otherwise content atmosphere. Stiles scrunched up his nose. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“How pretty you look after sex.”

Theo groaned and shoved him away, only to roll on top of him in the next second, a devilish smile on his features. “I’ll fuck you in front of a mirror next time,” he promised in a low voice, fingers playing at his jaw, “so you can see what pretty looks like.”  

Stiles flushed, and Theo kissed him, lips quirked into a grin.


End file.
